


Cyanide Opera

by A A J Moreau (QuarterVonLoeweQueen), QuarterVonLoeweQueen



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1930s, Betrayal, Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuarterVonLoeweQueen/pseuds/A%20A%20J%20Moreau, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuarterVonLoeweQueen/pseuds/QuarterVonLoeweQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The detective Emmet Tomlinson, helped by his fellow and forensic Jacob Hanzmirth, travel to Germany to solve the mystery involving the murder of a remarkable lyrical singer. In this story the reader will take more than one surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyanide Opera

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Opera de Cianuro](https://archiveofourown.org/works/690217) by [A A J Moreau (QuarterVonLoeweQueen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuarterVonLoeweQueen/pseuds/A%20A%20J%20Moreau). 



> Since i'm no professional translator, if you catch any grammar mistake, a sentence doesn't make sense or a word just feel wrong in the context, feel free to let me know in the comments. Advice is always very appreciated!

  1. A. J. Moreau



Quarter Von Loewe Queen

Cyanide Opera

 

A man, still sleepy, was yawning in the train. His heavy eyelids were battling so as not to fall on top oh his blue eyes. It was mid ‘30s. The man next to him, his companion, was reading a modern medicine report. They were the Detective Emmet Tomlinsion, and his comrade was the Forensic Jacob Hanzmirth.

Emmet was Irish, but he was travelling to Germany, because of a strange case which, was said, only he could solve. After all, he was the best of his generation in his profession.  For the two years he had been working as a private detective, he had solved more mysteries than any other detective in a decade.

Jacob, his friend ever since then, was a bit older and much more mature, but no less important; he had a peculiar type of humor.

-Is it wise to talk about the case right now? - asked Emmet to his colleague.

Jacob stood up. He looked through the window of their compartment and declared.- All of the passengers must be asleep.- Muttered the forensic with his deep voice. This year he would retire from his job.

-No one updated me about the case.- Protested Emmet.- I only know that is difficult to solve and important.- Jacob agreed with his head once again.

-If you do not interrupt me, and don’t make me force my voice, I’ll summarize you the case.- The detective accepted.- The lovely lyrical singer Margaret Wittgenstain was found in the clear of the woods which are on one side of Germany’s majestic and most important theatre.

-Poor girl. - Muttered Emmet. - She was only eighteen, wasn’t she? - He asked.

-No. She was nineteen. - Answered the other one. - Anyway, she was far too young to die, and a great loss to the theatre.

Twenty minutes went by. None of them talked. They had no need to break silence. Both of them were quiet, observant beings. Perhaps, that was why they got along.

When they got down from the train with their respective luggage, Jacob stopped a car. They were going to the crime scene.

-How is everything going with the duchess Christine? – Asked the detective to Jacob.

-She still doesn’t accept marring me, but I understand her. She is young and milliner. She could marry any man she wanted. She has no reason to choose me.

-Maybe she doesn’t want to make you suffer.- Adventured Emmet.- I heard her illness is incurable, and she could die in less than a year.

-That’s true. It’s just because of _that_ that I want to push her. I want to share with her, her last living days before she abandons me forever.

They arrived. Jacob was anxious for carrying out his job. Emmet; on the other hand had no rush. He had enjoyed the ride there. To him, it was needed to enjoy every second of life.

Emmet started to look for clues. The place had been checked by the police but they had strict orders not to touch anything. And they had done so.

-We’ll meet at nine o’clock (evening) to gather information, and know the whereabouts of the suspects. - Told Jacob to his mate.

-I can’t at nine. - He answered.

-Why not?

-My mother is travelling in America, I can only communicate with her by that time.

-In that case, you won’t be able to talk to he, we are _working_ not on holydays.

 Emmet was already used to Jacob’s bold change of temper, so he didn’t argue.

-At nine then. Where?

-In the bar round the corner. - Jacob told him.

At nine o’clock arrived Jacob. Emmet, three minutes later. Although it seemed like a small delay, this could bother the forensic.

-I’m here.- Announced Emmet sitting down in front of Jacob. He was expecting his mate fury which, as odd as it was, never came. Jacob was serene.

-What did you find?- Asked Jacob.

-Some objects which I’m not sure whether they held any connection with murder or not.

-Which objects?- He asked again.

-A clean blade less than a mile away from the place. The weird part is that it was hanging from a tree, as if it was there to be seen.

-Nom it definitely holds no connection to the case.- Said his companion.

-However, it could’ve been a strategic move. We not only see what we have in sight, but we also look for hidden stuffs. It happens often, and even more in this profession.

>>The murderer might have planned killing her.- said Emmet.

-No, I don’t think so.- Said the forensic.- I made the autopsy. She was stabbed to death, by a left handed person since the wounds are not very defined and they are twisted. I’m sure the murderer had a fit and could not bear it.

-Today I interviewed Margaret’s best friend. For what I heard, she was married.

>> When he talked about her his face was lighten up; I deduced he was in love with Margaret.             I mentioned him about the small packet of cyanide I found…

- _Cyanide_?- Asked Jacob.

-Excuse me, the _blade_. All the cases got mixed up in my head.- He apologized.- Never mind, he let me check his house and take samples of his fingerprints. He didn’t look worried. I also investigated her relatives and acquaintances in depth. None of them could’ve done it. Anyway, come with the police tomorrow midday. I’ll take my suspects and reveal the killer. Remember. Midday. Same place.

-I understand.

It was midday. Jacob entered the bar in the company of five police officers. Inside was his mate, and a few people were sitting with troubled faces.

Emmet greeted the newcomers.

-I’ve already solved the crime.- Said the detective.-But before that, let me have a chat with the suspects.

>>In the first place we have Mr. Ulm. The victim’s best friend, who I had talked to yesterday. I’ll ask you some things and I want you to answer truthfully.

-Very well.- Said Ulm.

-Did you know Margaret was married?

-I did.

-Did that make you jealous? You loved her, didn’t you?

-Yes. But I loved her like a friend.

-However, according to what I found out, she got married twice. The first time, with you. Will you deny it?

-No, I won’t. Yes, I _did_ marry her. We divorced, but we kept being friends.

-I have a theory. When I’m done you will tell me if it is right or not.

-Margaret, a beautiful woman, used to attract many men. She attracted you. She was brilliant and talented. But she travelled from one theater to another, she was always away. In those trips she met many men. She was never unfaithful, though. But she asked you to split up, con concentrate in her career she said, only one year after her marriage. Everything was fine, ‘till she married again. You, then learnt, the true cause of the divorce. Only five months later, she was engaged again. You might have not stood it; even so, you wouldn’t have killed _her,_ but her _husband._

-In part it’s true.- said the other man.- It seemed strange. But I couldn’t have killed her. I loved her too much.

-Precisely, that’s why _you_ could have killed her.- Jacob interrupted.

-You’re wrong.- Defended the suspect.- When you are, genuinely, in love, you want to protect the woman you love. 

-I’ll proceed to question the following.- Said Emmet.- Mrs. Daphne. Margaret’s colleague and back vocalist.

The little woman looked at him deeply in the eyes. She was a resentful being. As the peculiar gleam of her eyes and her violent features showed.

-Would you mind me asking some questions?

-I don’t care!- Answered the singer.

-Did you sing in the same theater as the deceased?

-I did.- She answered with decided, clear, strong voice.

-Margaret was the main voice and you the secondary. Isn’t that so?

-I was.- she stated violently again.

-So, in case anything happened to her, you would be the main voice?

-I would.- she stated snorting once more.

-Now, I shall give my theory. You loathed her. She was younger than you, and she had a shorted career, but she used to get the main rolls in the plays and sang the longest part. I will reveal, something I haven’t up until now to _all_ of you and I say _all_ of you because mi mate isn’t aware either. I found a pack of cyanide. I’m no chemist, so I couldn’t be sure of what it was, till my French friend, Louis Payne, identified it as such.

>> What’s funny about it is that the night she died, you had to replace her, and in her repertory, every song was about poisoning. The main song was about a death by cyanide.

>>Now, I must ask you if you have and alibi.- the detective finished.

-I was at home.- said Ulm.- No one can confirm it so you will have to trust me.

-So was I.- Said Daphne.

-However, the culprit was neither of you.- said Emmet.

-Who was it then?- asked Jacob.

- _YOU_!- he answered pointing to his colleague.

The police officers threw themselves onto Jacob.

-It wasn’t me!- shouted the desperate accused.

-Of course you were.- said Emmet.- Everything started when I found the cyanide. Queerly, you, one of the finest forensics, did not know that the body had been poisoned. That seemed odd to me. I tried not to mention it. By chance, when I was researching Margret, I found out that you were the first husband.

-I repeat, it wasn’t me!- clamed the accused.

-This is y reconstruction of the case.- continued the detective.- You met the rich duchess Christine. You learnt of her illness. Her life expectancy was shorted than a year. You were in an economical hurry. That’s why you were going to abandon your career; Christine fell in love with you. It was a big chance. If you got married, when she died, she would leave you her fortune.

>> But there was a problem. You’re wife. You had to eliminate her. Very few knew about the wedding, so you did it.

>> You poisoned her and then took her to the woods were you stabbed her dead body to give the impression she had been prey of a rage fit. Nothing could go wrong, you were the forensic.

-You are a genius, I recognized it.- said Jacob.

The police took him away.

-You man leave.- said Emmet to the ex-suspects.

_‘I’ll go back to Ireland and I’ll look for a new business partner’._

Said the detective to himself as he retire from the bar, beingobserved by the astonished faces of the waiters and owner of the place.

**The End.**

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Original Author A. A. J. Moreau  
> Translation by Quarter Von Loewe Queen  
> "Funny Facts about the stroy"  
>  **A. A. J. Moureau ******  
> -It was written in literature class when the teacher told us to write a Detectives Story.  
>  -Just like the murdered, I'm also left handed.  
> -The character is Irish due to my obsession for Irishmen.  
>  **Quarter Von Loewe Queen ******  
> -When I finished reading her story in class, i told her "If Sir Arthur Conan Doyle decided that Watson had to betray Sherlock, _this _would've been _that _story". The teacher agreed with me, however A. A. J. Moureua is fan of Agatha Christie and, even when the considers Sherlock Homes as childish and inmature, knowing i like him, she took it as a compliment...i hope.____


End file.
